Afternoon With the Admiral
by CoriMariee
Summary: A young man learns what truly makes his idol a person worth knowing


Afternoon With the Admiral

PG

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters from Star Trek Voyager. The rights to those characters and to the show belong to the creators of the show and Paramount.

Hugs to CF for a fantastic transcription job and to Kim J for a wonderful beta and encouragement to post. :)

For elem (Tante) with love, on her birthday

* * *

Adam Sinclair hated doing book reviews. They were pointless and no one read them; no one except his grandfather and grandmother, who claimed to be old enough to still remember when PADD books were in paper form - although he doubted it. All his generation had ever cared about were holonovels, but he had needed something to do with his journalism degree. And the market was flooded with people claiming to understand the intricacies of the perfect holonovel, so he had gotten stuck with the shit job of reviewing books that were only coming out in PADD form. This meant that he was reviewing books that would undoubtedly be up for the Federation literary prize, but would also put him to sleep.

He had believed this wholeheartedly for the first six months of his job, wading through the dreck that was Ferengi political commentary and a slew of bad novels about Orion slave girls and their redeemable virtues. But all that changed the day that Admiral Kathryn Janeway's manuscript crossed his desk.

He'd known who Janeway was. Who didn't in this quadrant, after all? And he was somewhat impressed by her accomplishments. Truth be told, he was a little more than somewhat. He had a model of Voyager in his bedroom and occasionally took it for a test flight around his bed, although at twenty-nine he wouldn't be caught dead admitting that to anyone. He had appreciated her skills as a leader and her ability to express herself in words. She had a comfortable style which evoked images that were startling in their lifelike qualities and had a rhythm that ebbed and flowed as if it was a conversation. What had impressed him the most though was that she didn't gloss over the difficult issues and that she didn't make everything seem sparkling clean.

He'd become as star struck as the other avid readers of her books. After he'd inhaled the manuscript, Adam had rushed out to acquire the previous two tomes.

Two years later, Janeway's fourth book – her first work of fiction - was due to hit stores in a matter of weeks. His editor had assigned Adam the task of interviewing her as an addendum to the review he would write.

While walking up to the front door of Janeway's modest home in the San Francisco hills, Adam wiped his sweaty palms lightly on his black dress pants, hoping to quell his nerves before he knocked, and knowing that if he didn't, he would barely be able to speak to anyone who came to the door. He knew from her first two books that she had married her former first officer while her third book delved into the challenges of raising the three children they had together – a boy who was ten; a girl, eight; and a boy, three. He didn't think he could speak intelligently to any of them.

After taking a steadying breath, he raised his hand to the palm scanner and received security clearance to knock. The Janeways were very careful about their privacy and the forcefield in front of the door would only be lifted for those listed on either the Janeway's permanent security clearance list or the daily guest list. Adam knocked twice and waited with bated breath as he heard small footsteps race down the hall towards the door. While placing what he hoped was a friendly smile over his nervous features, he waited for the house to open. After what felt like interminable minutes later, a young girl with dark pigtails opened the door just enough to stick her head through.

She peered at him quizzically, her eyebrows raised in confusion.

"Hello. Can I ask who you are?"

Adam was momentarily stunned at the politeness and maturity of the young girl, although belatedly, he realized he shouldn't have been. He knew that both Admiral Janeway and her husband were very keen on teaching their children the respect that was part of both of their parents' traditions.

"Hello, I'm Adam Sinclair, and I'm here to see your mother. Is she in?"

He was surprised at how calm his voice sounded, considering his heart was hammering away in his chest.

"She's here; I'll get her for you."

The small head ducked back into the house but the door was left open and Adam could see the long hallway that led into the house. For a moment, he wondered whether he should follow the girl at least into the foyer, but all thought disappeared from his mind as Kathryn Janeway appeared in front of him.

Her once red hair was almost completely grey now and her face was caressed with the lines of age, but he recognized her lopsided grin and serious blue eyes from the many, many holoimages he'd seen of her over the years.

"Ad-d-d-miral, how nice to meet you! I'm Ad-dam Sin-clair!"

Adam knew his voice was a mere squeak; he sounded as though he'd lost his marbles but he couldn't help it.

"Mr. Sinclair, it's nice to finally meet you. I've enjoyed reading your work at The Sentinel immensely over the years."

"You read my work?"

Somehow Adam had found his voice for the sentence, but he was sure that at any moment it would desert him again.

"I do! You have quite insightful things to say about the quality of literary work in the 24th century, and I always enjoy hearing a perspective from a different generation."

"Why thank you, I guess," Adam was struggling to hold himself together. He could feel his face growing hot as the admiral praised him for his not-so-kind view of the medium she excelled in.

The woman must've noticed his unease because she reached out and patted his shoulder.

"Please do come in. We'll sit in the living room, if that's all right."

"Yes, ma'am, Admiral, thank you!"

"None of that 'ma'am' stuff. And I won't be an admiral for much longer, so why don't you call me 'Kathryn'?"

She gave Adam another lopsided grin as he was torn between telling her 'no' and thanking her profusely. Fortunately he was saved from having to do either, for when he reached the living room, she ushered him onto the couch and took her place across from him in an overstuffed chair, the likes of which he'd never seen before.

Noticing his scrutiny, she smiled.

"Don't you like it? It's called a La-Z-Boy. My former pilot gave it to me. He has an obsession with the 20th century and that means I occasionally get some very strange Christmas gifts."

"Tom Paris, right?" Adam said, before he could stop himself, "You called him the best pilot any captain could ask for. Did you base Timothy – the adventurer – on him? I'm assuming you did, but I wanted to ask you and make sure I wasn't reading too much into the book, of course, I have a feeling that…"

"Mama! Me found buggy!"

Adam looked on as Admiral Janeway's three-year old ran into the room at full speed. He had tan skin like his sister, but his hair was slightly lighter than hers. He had his mother's blue eyes, which at the moment, lit up with excitement as he reached her and placed a caterpillar in her lap.

"Why thank you, Chris, darling," she said, ruffling his hair and planting a kiss on his forehead before tentatively touching the creature he just handed her. "He's very nice. Did Daddy tell you about caterpillars today?"

"Yep, Mama, we played in the garden wiff the tamatoes,"

"I'll tell you what," Janeway said, giving the creature another careful stroke, "why don't you put him back outside, but make sure he doesn't get into the tomatoes?"

"Okay, Mama," the three-year old leaned up and gave the admiral a kiss on the cheek, careful not to squish his new friend. Then, with clumsy care, he scooped the animal back into his palm and raced out of the room just as quickly as he'd come, leaving the adults alone once more.

"I'm sorry about the interruption," the admiral said. "He just loves animals and my husband has been teaching our children about their connection to nature this spring since it's time for us to replant our vegetable garden."

Adam was still stunned that the admiral had let him see such a private scene in her life. He thought that she would have encouraged the child to leave them alone for the entirety of the interview, just to protect the line between work and family. But it seemed that the accomplished writer and interminable admiral had a side few ever got to see, one that was rich and warm and filled with everyday family activities.

Adam could remember bringing his mother many a spider in his childhood and it somewhat amazed him to see his favorite author reacting the same way his mother had.

"Are you alright?"

"Oh yes, sorry, Admiral." He blushed again as he realized that he'd been caught daydreaming while she'd been waiting for him to continue the interview.

If his boss could see how well this was going, he'd be looking for a new job by the end of the day.

"Please! As I said, call me 'Kathryn.' And there's no need to apologize. I just assumed you were thinking carefully about your next question."

Adam knew the woman was covering for him and he idolized her all the more for it.

"Yes, well my next question is, how did you relate to the main characters in the novel? Did you find models for them in your real life, or did you completely make them up?"

The admiral leaned back in her chair and smiled. "I'm sure there are elements of them that are taken from people I know, but for the most part, they are of my own creation."

"So was it an accident that in Chapter 3, the male pilot just happens to pick a flower for the new station commander?"

As Adam listened to her answer, he was amazed by how comfortable she seemed to be with her writing and how much fun she was having by simply practicing the craft.

Adam was about to ask her a follow-up question regarding one of the minor characters when the comm beeped in.

"If you'll excuse me one moment, I'll just see who that is."

"By all means, Admiral…uhhh, Kathryn."

The older woman turned and winked at him as she made her way to the vidcom and turned it on.

"Aunt Kathryn! Thank Kahless I caught you!"

"Hi there, Miral. What can I help you with?"

"Nothing, Aunt Kathryn, I just need to talk to you about something."

"Well, dear, I'm in the middle of an interview. Can you talk to Uncle Chakotay for awhile until I finish up here?"

"No, Aunt Kathryn, I really need to talk to you. Five minutes, please?"

When the admiral turned around to ask his permission, Adam smiled reassuringly at her.

"Go ahead. I'm here for as long as you'll have me. I'll just take the time to organize my notes for the review."

The admiral smiled gratefully and Adam returned the grin with one of his own. He then kept his promise and began reading his review materials.

As he studied them and thought about the piece he planned to write, Adam's mind drifted to what he knew about Miral Paris. The quarter-Klingon girl was now twelve years old and the oldest of the two Paris children. She had a brother named Amal, who had just turned nine a few weeks prior. But what Adam hadn't known was how close the young girl was to Admiral Janeway, or that the woman was the kind of person who would drop everything for those she loved.

Adam continued to ponder this until he heard them sign off the comm. He looked up to see Admiral Janeway walking to her seat, a pensive look on her face.

"I really do apologize, Mr. Sinclair. I had no idea the house was going to be this busy today. But I truly thank you for your patience."

"Not at all… Kathryn." Adam managed to say her name now, but only just. "This is merely an interview. Real life takes precedence."

"I'm glad you see it that way. Many reporters are so intent on what they want from me that they don't realize that I have a lot more going on than just being Starfleet's most recognizable admiral. I thank you for the respect you've shown."

Adam watched as she leaned back in her chair and made herself comfortable once more. "Now what was it you wanted to ask me?"

"I was curious about the weather on Violet Sea. Was it comparable to any you've experienced before? And did you indeed use the coping techniques that your characters did there, while in the Delta Quadrant?"

"What coping techniques were those? I don't even remember! It's been so long since I've seen the manuscript."

"The internal shields that protected vital organs from getting irradiated by the atmosphere. Are those real?"

"I'm afraid not. They were just something I stuck in there to make the science seem a little more accessible. Most of the people that might pick up my book will probably be reading it for the romance, not the science, Mr. Sinclair, and so I had to make things fit as best I could."

As he thought about his next question, Adam struggled to hide his disappointment. He'd assumed that his interest regarding the science in her novel was one way in which he could impress her and perhaps earn her respect. But it appeared that yet again, he'd misjudged the situation and mistook her technical writing for insight into who she really was.

Janeway must have seen something in his eyes, because she leaned forward and patted him on the shoulder once more.

"I'm sorry to let you down," she offered, her kind voice making him feel all the more embarrassed for his reaction. "I do like science, but not that kind. I'm more a quantum-theory kind of woman. But you might enjoy talking to my son, Kalani, about those sorts of things. He's the medical science geek of the family. Even at ten, he can tell you more about the human body than most people. He'd be happy to talk your ear off for an hour if you'd let him."

Adam managed a small smile. "I would like that, Kathryn, very much. Thank you."

"Oh, it's no trouble. And it'd be great for him to have someone to share his passion with.

If you're serious, call my office and we'll make a date for the two of you to have lunch. I know he's nowhere near your age, but he could probably benefit from someone showing him the science fiction ropes."

Adam was startled. Had she really just invited him to spend time with her family? She was the famous Admiral Janeway, and he, a lowly book reviewer.

As though reading his thoughts once more, she smiled reassuringly.

"Underneath it all, Adam – if I may call you 'Adam' –I'm really not all that different from you. Sure, I've got my writing career, and I've been in Starfleet for longer than you've been alive, but I value people as people. If you can see past the persona, I'm sure you'll find that I don't quite measure up to the hype."

"On the contrary, Admiral Janeway," Adam said quietly, using her full title, "you do measure up, but in a different way than I had thought you might. I thank you again for the invitation and I look forward to talking with your son. I was his age when I got interested in books myself. I do have one last question for you, though. Would it be alright if I printed some of what I've seen in our interview this afternoon in my piece, rather than focusing completely on the book?"

He watched as a smile lit Admiral Janeway's face and he thought she was about to answer him in the affirmative, when someone in the doorway of the room cleared their throat.

Adam turned and found himself eye-to-eye with the admiral's equally famous husband. The man had aged over the years in much the same way his wife had - grey had replaced the majority of the black hair on his head, and wrinkles creased the striking tattoo that was easily recognizable across the quadrant.

Despite this however, Chakotay was still an imposing figure, and Adam shrank back a bit further into his seat. He'd gotten more comfortable with Kathryn Janeway, but her husband still made him wary.

Adam watched carefully as the older man strode confidently over to where his wife sat, placed his hands on her shoulders and dropped a kiss on the top of her head. Chakotay then turned once more to look at him.

"Hello. I'm Chakotay. And you are…?"

The firmness in the older man's tone belied the casual way in which the question was asked, and Adam scrambled for a way to convey the utmost respect in his answer.

"Pleased to make your acquaintance, sir. I'm Adam Sinclair of The Sentinel. I came to interview your wife for a piece I'm doing about her latest book. I'm a great fan of her work. And your children are lovely."

"Thank you, Mr. Sinclair. I'm very proud of my family."

Captain Chakotay's expression had relaxed a little, but Adam knew the man was an excellent tactician and didn't always give away exactly what he was feeling. He did, however, radiate suspicion that Adam felt was directed at him, and he fervently hoped that he could put the older man at ease.

"Sir, would you mind if I ask you a question or two for the interview as well?"

"Not at all, young man." Chakotay smiled for the first time in the entire exchange and Adam released a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding.

As Chakotay pulled up a chair beside his wife's La-Z-Boy, Adam thought of his first question for the couple and smiled.

"So what's it like living with a fiction writer?"

In that moment, he'd found his groove, and time seemed to fly by. Adam talked with them for another hour, pausing the conversation periodically, so that they could tend to things having to do with work or family.

He'd told the admiral the truth – he respected both of them more with each minute he spent in their presence, and it was as much for their commitment to the things he read about, as for the actions he witnessed that afternoon.

As the former command team walked him to the door, Adam smiled to himself, pleased with the way the afternoon had gone. He'd learned that the great Captain – now Admiral – Janeway and her husband, the equally famous Captain Chakotay, were more than just figures worth admiring.

They were people worth knowing.


End file.
